It's the Rush You Get
by KT-ExReplica
Summary: When there's only a bitter ending and a certain number of days until the adrenalin kicks in, then you're fighting for your life. Pairings: Hijack, Jackrabbit. Features: Twins, Jack and Jackson Overland Frost, assertive Hiccup and Human!Bunnymund
1. Chapter 1

**It's the Rush You Get**

Jack lay back, watching the ash grey cloud of his breath fly and curl; wispy, like a spirit of some kind, a ghostly cry of pain from his tar stitched lungs. Jackson coughed next to him, his hazel eyes bloodshot and his smile was beautiful.

If one could call the grimace on his lips beautiful. Jack took another slow drag on his last cigarette. He exhaled again, fighting the urge to laugh at the rude shape it twisted into briefly before it was swept into nothingness by the not so stale air. It was much cleaner up on the roof. Jackson hiccoughed and clawed angry bruises into his spotted, bloodied forearms. Jack barely spared his twin brother a glance. It was pathetic, but he reached down anyway to rake broken nails and sharp scabbed, calloused fingertips through patchy brunette strands of hair. Jack sighed as he pulled out a clump by accident and Jackson moaned sadly at the loss.

Oh how the mighty fell.

One bullet left.

Jack wanted it to be Jackson.

Jackson wanted it to be Jack.

Jack could feel the dull heat as his cigarette began to burn itself out near his fingers. He nudged Jackson back a little as his twin wrapped cold hands round his elbow. Jack contemplated the knife in his boot but distracted he addressed Jackson, who drooled complacently.

"Not now Jackson."

Jackson sighed at the answer and mumbled something incoherently. Jack clenched his jaw. By the time his fag blew out, time would be up and he would have to make a choice. He peered over the edge of the building, the fall was a long one. Jack knew survival was not an option. Jackson choked gutturally on his own tongue, his expression comical, Jack smiled down at him fondly and tapped his younger brother on the nose gently. Always until the very end he would stay with him. Jackson's unnaturally strong fingers clenched Jack's wrist in an uncomfortable grip.

Jack smiled.

The gun lay between them and Jackson looked at it with a surprising amount of clarity. Jack shrugged, drawing in a greedy lungful of smoke as he willed his pitiful butt to burn a little longer.

Anything to give him a bit more time with Jackson.

Jackson looked over to Hiccup's body with a low sob, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as his muddled brain tried to decipher what he had done. Jack said nothing, and quietly sunned himself as an ironic blood red sunrise greeted them. Jackson sobbed louder, pressing his trembling hands to Hiccup's frozen green eyes, his expression etched in a final twisted cry of shock. Jack threw a careless glance over to where the younger male was hunched over the corpse, twitching spastically as he tried to comprehend that Hiccup was in fact, dead.

"Jackson leave him alone. You don't want to disturb his rest."

Jack said quietly and Jackson stopped his noise and crept back to the silvery haired male, tucking himself sensibly and neatly, strangely subdued into his twin's side. He was shivering, Jack did not make any move to comfort him.

"Sleep?"

Jackson queried and Jack nodded robotically.

"Yeah, Hiccup is sleeping Jackson."

"Oh."

Jackson's voice came out in a snarl, Jack paid it no attention and focused instead on the tiny glowing stub of his too quickly consumed cigarette.

Time was short.

One bullet.

"You loved him."

Jack continued, his throat tightening as he spoke, Jackson looked up at him, his hazel eyes flickering in understanding, confusion, pain and animal. Jack didn't blink as he stared into the ruby orb of the sun, hoping to find some kind of strength or solace in its brightening glare.

"He gave up a lot for you, like I have."

Jack continued and Jackson crooned softly, upset, knowing. Jack swallowed, his mouth dry.

"Pass me the flask?"

Jackson obeyed. Jack hadn't expected anything, sighing he tossed the useless container aside and rested his chin on top of Jackson's head. Jackson growled, hands forming rigid claws. Jack kept himself calm.

"He loved you too."

Jack whispered, closing his eyes as he heard Jackson pick up the gun to inspect it.

One bullet.

"He wanted me to get you to safety."

Jack continued, feeling lighter than he had since the beginning. He furrowed his brow slightly as if squinting, but with his eyes closed. But he had failed.

Failure.

The rush of adrenaline and then the sobering punch called failure. It had been no one's fault. Jack opened his eyes and looked at the tribal marking he had etched into his palm with a pen, Aster was taking a long time... Jackson spat, a whimpering snarl leaving his lips. Jack found the dead hand holding the gun and held on tightly. Jackson twitched.

"I just..."

_I failed to keep you safe._

Jack said and then trailed off and Jackson lurched forwards with a soft cry. Jack watched his twin through stone cold eyes, yet his voice only held love for his sibling. Jackson looked at him mistily, his expression was savagely forgiving. Jack pet the brunette on the head again, this time with more vindication. Jackson's thin chest heaved as he fought the dusty smoggy air.

_Jack I'm scared._

Jack held Jackson's hand tight.

"I guess it was the rush of blood to my head, I got careless."

Jack mumbled.

Jackson said nothing.

"I-"

Jack stopped.

He didn't need to explain himself. Or at least, he did, but now he didn't. Gently laying down the body of his unturned brother Jack picked up the gun with its last bullet. The weapon felt ready, it felt right in his hand. Jack didn't look behind him, for the fear he'd be sentimental.

Jack dropped the ashen stub of his cigarette. Aster wasn't coming anymore. He smiled as he weighed the gun upwards.

Jackson was always right.


	2. Chapter 2

-323 days ago-

"We can't take them with us!"

Jack snapped and Hiccup looked affronted, his face looked more spotted than usual from dried blood and dirt mapping out with his freckles. Crinkling his nose up in a blatant display of dislike for the frosty haired male the auburn haired young man turned away fisting his hair as he tried to make a decision. Jackson was out cold on the tarmac of the road, his head bleeding from a nasty fall he had taken down the side of a ravine when they'd been running from a group of hunters. It was risky now for them seeing that Jackson had the best aim out of the lost of them, so the fact he was out cold didn't bode well if an attack actually hit.

As a result of the turn of rather unfortunate events, Jack was really only concerned with getting his twin to shelter. Unlocking the safety on his gun Jack pulled Hiccup aside roughly, who scowled and wrenched his arm out of Jack's grip. Jack breathed out heavily through his nose.

"Hiccup, look, as much as I want to take them with us, you've seen our ride, it's a fucking two seat! What are you going to do? Shove them in the boot and call it a day?"

"Yeah? You know they probably could fit. Seriously Jack if you'd take a moment to use your eyes and look at-"

"I've looked, and I've seen enough. We can't take any chances."

Jack said coldly, cutting Hiccup off as he tossed the extra firearm from his back pocket to him. Hiccup fumbled to catch it, palms sweaty from his slowly boiling anger, swearing under his breath as he watched Jack crouch to press his fingers to Jackson's throat, feeling for a pulse. After a moments' pause Jack sighed with relief and hauled his twin up and into the empty seat of the car. Hiccup turned back to the two small children on the side of the road. A small boy with a missing tooth and his little blonde haired sister with a gap between hers.

What a sad picture it painted.

The little girl was crying. Hot wet tears streaking down her hollow face and Hiccup vaguely wondered where or what had happened to their parents.

"It's ok Soph..."

The boy, presumably her older brother whispered, curling a fragile arm round her, skinny from the little food that was now available. Hiccup fisted the hem of his torn black shirt with 'AC DC' printed on the front, in frustration. Jack was being a fucking dick about the whole situation.

Just one week ago, everything was ok, Jack was ok, but then life decided to make things interesting for them and ever since then Jack had changed. Jackson hadn't really made any drastic changes other than a renewed determination to survive(though Hiccup bet his decaying Dad's enormous beard that the brunette twin blamed himself entirely for what had transpired) but Jack definitely had changed.

Because one week ago the Frost brothers had lost their own little sister.

Hiccup had a feeling Jack was bitter over the fact that right here and now, this little boy was protecting his little sister. It was a massive reality check for him. Because if they had done better, the Frost girl would still be with them.

"Where's Aster?"

Jack asked, not looking up as he cleaned Jackson's head wound, Jackson mumbled something feebly as he came round and Jack hushed him with a finger to his lips. Hiccup shrugged, the rugged Australian had gone up ahead in the truck, scouting for the nearest town for supplies. Personally Hiccup didn't care, he thought Aster was a brave man, but one of the more act now and think later ones, he was too rash. He didn't plan anymore, he just worked. Deep down Hiccup supposed he was worried for him, going alone on infested highways just screamed 'suicide'.

But then again... suicide seemed pretty good right now. A choked sob brought him back to the present. Hiccup looked at the two children.

"Jack please."

Hiccup didn't ask for any favours, ever, he didn't like the idea of having to repay someone, especially if they died before he could do so. The only reason he was here, was because his village had gone up in flames. Infection had spread and he was the sole lone survivor, no one else made it out. But where else was there to go? Hiccup had focused on survival, trapping animals for food and rolling in the dirt to hide himself better. Now reflecting on that moment, Hiccup had to admit he had never imagined he would've ever had the balls to escape. Nevertheless his body had risen to the occasion magnificently and kicked into fight and flight mode, and he had run. He had run like hell was snapping at his heels with nothing more than the clothes on his body, his phone and the shovel he had used to defend himself as the undead hounded him for miles. He was lucky to have made it this far at all.

Hiccup hoped Jack would listen to him.

Jack looked at him through narrowed eyes as he continued to press the gauze to Jackson's forehead. Hiccup never asked for anything, let alone beg. After a calculating pause Jack straightened; as he was stuffing the bloody rag into an empty water bottle Jack had to admit Hiccup was an enigma if anything. About two and a half weeks ago he had arrived at their camp half dead and a hateful wild look in his green eyes, like he had outrun the devil himself. Startled initially, Jackson had been easy to accept the newcomer, but Jack had trained the two of them at gun point whilst standing protectively in front of his sister. Jackson had raised his hands in exasperation, as if being held at gun point by his own mirror image was no big deal, like it happened on a daily basis. Hiccup however had tensed up, fingers gripping his shovel threateningly and rightly so.

Tension. Back then, it was only tension.

No one had moved.

No one had said a word.

And then their sister made the decision. Hiccup stayed.

Jack didn't know why he had allowed it, Hiccup could've been infected and there would've been no way of telling until it was too late. But somehow Mary seemed to know Hiccup wasn't. Jack merely chalked that up to sheer good luck.

"Hiccup no. Please don't try to reason with me."

Jack whispered, this was hard for him too.

Hiccup almost slapped him. And later he really wished he had.

"J...ack?"

Jackson muttered and Jack patted his brother on the cheek, as if telling him to shut up. Hiccup frowned. Jack was such an asshole when Aster wasn't around. But then again, he nor Aster were saints either, the freckled male mused. Crossing his arms Hiccup decided to stand firm, his phone buzzed feebly. Hiccup ignored it.

"Jack, we should get Aster and see what he thinks."

"We don't have time Hiccup, they could be here any moment, we've got to move on, spent too much time as it is."

"You're a real shithead you know that."

Hiccup spat, normally he wasn't this colourful and nor was he this aggressive. But time and circumstances had transformed him into a survivor, and a survivor had to be tough thus if childish name calling was part of the package, he'd utilise whatever he got. Jack snorted and drew his gun on the trembling hopeful children.

"We should kill them, put them out of their misery."

"Jack listen to what you're saying-"

"I'm listening."

"For fuck's sake Jack they're CHILDREN!"

"And we can't afford to feed any more mouths! We need to live too!"

"Put down the gun Frost."

"No, Haddock."

"Put down the gun Jack."

"Why? Its better this way! You KNOW it is!"

"JACK-"

Hiccup came face to face with the cold, cocked and loaded muzzle of Jack's shotgun. Staring down the barrel he narrowed his eyes, hating the man more and more as the seconds trickled by. Their argument was probably heard a mile away. They would be in trouble if they kept fighting. The atmosphere turned incredibly tense, the only sounds audible were the wind as it rustled by and the sound of Jackson panting shallowly as mosquitoes buzzed about his wound, feasting on the easy meal.

"Jack you don't want to do this."

Hiccup warned, raising his hands up in surrender, careful now, one wrong move and the temperamental icy haired man in front of him could easily blow his brains out. Jack clenched his jaw, it was obvious he trusted Hiccup, but not quite enough just yet.

"Why? Look at us Hiccup, look at the world, look at them. Have you ever seen anything more pathetic?"

Hiccup knew he was treading on broken glass now but he said it anyway, because why not just send everything to splinters?

"Yeah, you."

Hiccup had been expecting a hit but even then he was not ready for the heavy blow Jack dealt him across his jaw; staggering to hold onto the side of the car Hiccup coughed seeing stars and his vision doubling for a while as Jack checked the chambers of the gun to ensure it was indeed fully loaded. Hiccup righted himself, but did not make a move.

"Don't you dare."

"Or what?"

Jack threw back snidely, Hiccup was about to reply when two shots rang out, one after the other. Acrid gunpowder stung the air and brought forth unwanted bullet tears of hateful anger and sorrow in its ashy wake.

And then crying stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

-322 days ago-

It had been a messy affair, fires had broken out and bullets had been wasted, this was why Jackson preferred to use knives in massive fights, but in his hungered state he lacked the power to deal any solid damage and wished for at least one of his shotguns. The sound of battle, in novels he read had always described it as clashing, full of war cries and the yells of the foe and the pounding of hot strong blood in time with the thrumming of a frantic heart. To him the sound of battle was skin ripping and the acrid stink of gun powder. It was the song of death as the dead fell and bodies hit the ground with thuds akin to sacks of flour or rice- a rhythm, a consequential beat to the movement round them, the chaos and it was terrifyingly fitting. It was a typical working day in the field. The song was reaching its crescendo and all Jackson could see in the crazy terrified animal eyes of his enemies was himself getting married to it in sheets of transparent silky white (disgustingly sensual) that better suited a deceiving whore as it soaked up the blood he had spilt in a terrifyingly greedy manner. it plastered to him like a second skin, accentuating his body, like a cheap film cut from some disturbing fetishist video.

It made him look so fucking lewd, dominating and forcing others into submission through violence, demanding that they knelt before him, their death cries pleasuring him in disturbing ways Jackson never thought he would've ever. The blood was up to his pelvis and hips now, how deep he bathed in it and the stickiness raped his thighs, reminding the hazel eyed twin of the wound he had received on his inner thigh on his right leg.

His plumage was scarlet.

And his wings were the devils. Leathery like a dragon's, dark as night and held the power of pure fury.

And he wore this 'armour', this regal garb of death without a fuss (another fact which chilled him frozen). It was who he had to be now and Jackson could only hope he could divorce it in the future in the garb of untainted black.

So no one could see what he had done.

He could still pretend he was a virgin, untainted by bloodshed as he drove his blade through the quivering throat of the last 'thing' (was it alive? or was it another dead one?) that had leapt at him spewing blood.

And then it was all over and Jackson took a moment to close up and to still himself in the moment.

Hiccup wiped his mouth and felt his knees shaking and pressing a sweaty hand to his grimy forehead to steady himself he puked on the side of the road, unable to stomach the smell and what had just been happening (he'd been sick for a while and as it steadily grew worse, he became more nauseous faster- but he had medication, but for how long Hiccup had no idea). Jack pulled up his hood and knelt in the grass, pressing shocked eyes of the sane closed. When the two were done they looked at each other. Jackson stood a little way off and said nothing (he'd been silent since that morning), his eyes closed his lips moving in a soundless prayer.

Jack almost laughed at his brother, yet he held his tongue, it was only funny because they weren't religious. Looking about at the carnage and wasted bullets, Jack wondered what kind of God could've saved them now from such a desolate infested world where the only visitors they got were dead people. The few that were actually alive were more than often insane. So they were effectively put out of their misery and those that were sane... well...

That was debateable

Survival drove them wilder than ever before and trust was rare. Jack had often had many a sleepless night wondering whether or not they were just as mad as everyone else, he knew Jackson and Hiccup wondered about this more than was considered healthy, but one thing was certain:

People had to die. It was the kindest thing, but also the hardest.

It made him feel like he was losing his touch, that perhaps if Mary was still here, he would still be holding onto the shreds of humanity that he wished he still had. But logic slammed into his skull, over and over.

This was right.

They were so far gone in this desolate wasteland, it was better to kill than to recruit, they couldn't afford to have a betrayal (Hiccup was the first and last person they ever let in and even now Jack didn't trust him completely). In a sense they were the rest of the worlds' guardian angels. They 'protected' the people. By snuffing out their lights and collecting their remaining memories, hoping they would forgive them. Jack had never thought he would've gone from protector to reaper. Hiccup shook, unable to deal but swallowed down his stomach and tried to move on- he never wanted to hurt or kill anyone. Jack's lips were pressed in a thin line. Jackson turned and stepped close to Hiccup, kneeling to take his thin, bony freckled face in his small dirty hands.

Jackson looked so much different than Jack, which Hiccup found odd for twins. Whilst sporting the same well structured facial features Jackson had a less angular jaw and softer eyes and longer eyelashes, perhaps it was because Jack had such awful pale eyes. Jackson also had a kinder voice, it wasn't icy, it was trusting. Yet despite the initial kindness he portrayed, Jackson was just as terrifying as his brother in a fight. Nevertheless it didn't take a genius to know which twin was and had been the mother figure to their little sister. Jackson stroked Hiccup's face gently, his expression difficult to read.

"You'll be ok."

Jackson whispered, his voice soft- as it had been the first thing he had said all day, then he moved in, pressing a kiss to Hiccup's forehead, gently brushing sweaty matted hair out of his freckled face. Hiccup didn't get Jackson. Overly touchy, friendly and had no sense of personal space, Jackson was truly an oddity. Hiccup however was deep down grateful for the show of affection and kindness from the brunette (he never had much comfort back then when his village was still standing). Wrapping his arms tightly round the lanky taller, green eyed male, Jackson held onto him; small hands wandering over thin but well spaced, broad shoulders as he nuzzled his cheek against the scruff of stubble along Hiccup's jaw line.

Still unsure of what he could do to comfort this strange shovel wielding man who had walked into his life, Jackson pressed a kiss to his cheek. Hiccup did nothing and merely held the hazel eyed twin back. Jack noted their embrace.

Oh.

Icy blue eyes hardened at the realisation and turned away his lips set with resolve before he gave the bodies of the slain one last look over. Jackson released Hiccup and went off to check the other corpses for anything useful. Hiccup scowled at the ever watchful Jack who sneered right back, but within his pale cold eyes lay a thin layer of fear, a plea for forgiveness (forgiveness for the lives he had taken, deaf to their pleas and that his own couldn't possibly give back). Hiccup couldn't find it in himself to forgive just yet and clenching his teeth together he stood and got into the drivers' seat of the car. Jack didn't move. A minute dragged by, then another and another, finally Hiccup spoke up as Jackson joined him in the seat next to him, his expression guarded and his eyes downcast- in his hands a handful of bloodied grimy bullets, a plastic bottle and a small machete.

Jack somehow felt his authority was slipping when it came to Hiccup. Whilst the auburn haired man never actively killed anyone like he did, preferring for Jack or even Jackson to finish them off or time to claim their last gasping breaths; he was still hurting people. It was difficult to grasp and understand, how to decipher that accusing gaze on him. It made him feel unwanted, that emerald glower that burnt more than anything. Jack ignored the blazing heat in his chest, it was so painful as he remembered how tightly Jackson had held Hiccup. Even now he was losing his brother to Hiccup, like he had lost Mary, who had doted on the freckled male. Jack bit his lower lip, fingering his gun, he was lucky it was empty.

He was quite trigger happy. Being a survivor had made him a bit too quick to pull it.

"Are you getting in or not?"

Hiccup asked quietly, his voice betraying nothing, Jack shivered, his expression hidden by the shadow of his hood. Jackson didn't need him, Hiccup thought he was lower than dirt and Aster never gave a damn about anyone.

"I thought you didn't-"

"Get in the fucking vehicle Frost."

Hiccup replied stiffly. Jackson flinched next to him and watched his white haired brother blindly, hoping to see a shred of his old self in him. Jack said nothing as he got in, gently nudging his twin to move up. Jack looked at Hiccup quickly who checked his viciously vibrating phone, demanding his attention. It was Aster, telling him his location, that it was safe for now and that he was waiting for them. Hiccup couldn't believe that Jack had the nerve to look afraid now. Jackson on the other hand looked calm as one could be in such circumstances, but his throat lurched every now and again, as if he was holding back the fact he was actually terrified. Hiccup only wished he could be that brave.

Stepping down hard on the pedal, the car jumped forwards with a screech of burning rubber. Jack swallowed and prodded:

"Where to?"

"Home."


End file.
